Once again, it's late.
I often wonder if these blog posts count as word counts! But no, they don't.
Why is it so much easier to write unstructurally (is that even a word?) than it would to write a book?
I know, I know. You're thinking... Isn't a book kinda of a random write anyways?
But I'm a talker. Okay, maybe not, but I do have things to say.
In writing, I find it most difficult in the areas of the "in between."
Like, what do these characters do all day? Wake up, eat, go to school, have a little action, some romance, maybe angst. Then you have to decided, are they huggers? Where in the world do they go on a date?
Did they complete a dare? Socks or Clothes? Backpack? Do I talk about those?
How about WHERE the loving making happens? In a boring bed? Shower? How about driving around for a million minutes with a hard on looking for a place the cops won't come snooping?
Like, this is LEGIT worries I have with writing!
I just want them to get to point A - to point B with out the heartache of second guessing.
That scene in Just Married with the cake in the fridge? THAT WAS A LEGIT THREE DAY OBSESSION.
I kid you not.
Now I'm having flash backs.
I need those heart candies.
You know, the ones with the powder coating and you read the messages? Yeah, guess what? Some random FB post told me they are no longer making those. (And we believe everything on FB, right?) The bastards. That's how I learned how to read! Heart candies, my love for you is strong.
I could only eat a heart candy if I read the freakin' word.
Now, I write. I could eat as many as I wanted.
But nooo, their makers have killed them.
Okay, I'm done with my rant. Not sure what it was about, but it happened.
If you need therapy, I'm sorry.
Next time, I'll invent a time machine.
Good bye Peeps!
It's too late at night...
Welcome to my nonsense!